Tale of the Last Flight
by Mr.Hollywood
Summary: Seventeen years after the events of Wrath of the Lich King, a new, more powerful evil has awakened, and is now hunting the Dragonflights.
1. Prologue

The is my first Fanfic, sorry if there any grammar mistakes i missed.

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**Tale of the Last Flight**

**Prologue**

Written by Alexander Wojcik

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_Seventeen years. Seventeen years have passed since the collapse of Icecrown Citadel. Seventeen years of peace and harmony. Seventeen years without war and hatred. Seventeen years since true evil had awakened…..Two have been chosen._

_**Stormwind Infirmary**_:

Rain fell again that day. It had been raining for a month now. Northshire Abby and Goldshire had been flooded beyond the imagination of any city official. The refugees of the storm had been herded to The Cathedral of Light, and to the Keep. Many of the current denizens of the city frowned towards the decision of King Anduin Wrynn. This had been the greatest flood the kingdom had ever seen. The torrential downfall had been too much for many, but they all stood strong at the side of Anduin.

"Your Highness, your wife Lorenia is going into labor. Shall I fetch the physician?" asked an aging noble by the name of Sir Reddson.

"Or shall I call upon the Priests?"

"Reddson, my wife is in labor, not on her death bed. Stop being so uncharismatic, and relax. Have you forgotten that she was one a great paladin that has served this kingdom with her heart and honor unmatched by none? She is a strong fighter, she will be alright. But I do begin to wonder what is taking so long with High Lord Deren and his apprentice?" replied the King.

"My lord, I do not wish to correct you, but Deren's apprentice, Maxwell is being knighted as we speak. He is going to be part of the Argent Crusade."

"Well then, I have nothing to fear."

That raining day a child was born, the first son to Anduin and Lorenia. The child was to be named Valoden, after the Holy Order had approved. The child was to be become a paladin, a protector of light and holy. His mentor was to be Maxwell Isfar, Son of Lord Keilth Isfar.

"My king, do you believe that Maxwell is ready to mentor this child, he is no more than a child himself!?" asked Reddson.

"If Deren is right, then my son is in the greatest possible hands. His training shall be watched over by Maxwell at all times. I have full trust in Maxwell and the family of Isfar," said Anduin as he grasped his new son.

"Valoden, my child, you shall become more than I have ever dreamed about. This day has come on the darkest of seasons, but I know you shall become the shining light. One day, you will be legendry, prince of Stormwind.

**_Shadowglen_:**

"Lord Terendis, we have news that Stormwind is rejoicing in the birth of their new prince. Shall we send an ambassador to welcome the new prince into the Alliance?" asked a young female sentinel.

"Yes, but please go ask Fandral Staghelm first, I do not want another "Ambassador is missing" situation again, that got me stable master duty for a month!" said Terendis Swiftecho with a slight smile across his face. Terendis was a great, yet hot-headed Warrior Captain of the Darnassian Army, and ranked as the highest fighter class in the Alliance under Assassin. He wishes not to be called an assassin because he is stuck to the idea the only honorable way to kill is face to face.

"Hey Captain! You want to come with us on the Ambassador Expedition? We would really like it for you to show some of the new scouts the ropes, those fools haven't seen any real action or war before. Would be a nice wake up call to go on a real diplomatic mission," asked Junior Commander Sparks, a gnome linguistics expert.

"I would love to come, but today is the birthing day of my child. A new Swiftecho shall be born into this world, and follow in my footsteps." replied Terendis.

Terendis traveled to his home on the eastern end of Shadowglen, knowing that his child would be born at any moment. His mind was racing. He could not get the notion out of his head that his child would not be the warrior he had hoped it would be. No, he thought. This child would be great, far greater than any being to have ever lived. The Swiftecho name would live on in its rightful place in history, among the greatest names and ranks in all of Azeroth. Terendis shall make sure of this, no matter how hard or challenging it would be.

_**Caverns of time:**_

"Felo-melorn" whispered a soft voice.

The bronze dragon sentry had died without even knowing it.

The cloaked figure moved to the body of waking Anachronos.

"Bal'a dash, Malanore. Anaria shola." Said Anachronos as the figure moved closer.

"Who are you, and what is it that you want." He asked the figure.

The figure, after some time, revealed a small, silvery orb. The figure then proceeded to the figure of the dead sentry, were he laid the silver orb onto its body. After a slow moment, the figure of the sentry began to convulse violently. The body first entered a phase of violent spasms and trembling. It then began to levitate off into the air, stopping about twenty feet off the ground. The body then erupted into a seething ball of flame, set falling to the ground. The howling of the fallen soul came next. The soul of the fallen sentry came creaming out of its body, shattered, ripping itself apart, tormenting itself. Then, silence came. Utter and pure silence. The body and soul vanished.

"You see, Anachronos, I am what you call, a being, more powerful than you will ever comprehend."

Raising his hand, the figure manipulated a runeblade from the shadowy depths, and held it in his grasp.

"Bash'a no falor talah!" he yelled as he looked at Anachronos.

Anachronos had heard this spell said once, by Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, before she killed a victim. The powerful, controlling echo in his head began to destroy his soul. He knew he was about to die, and the sacred halls of time would be left defenseless.

The mighty cavern where the past, present, and the future merge was ravaged and dismantled. The great halls, destroyed and forgotten, were many Bronze Dragonflight corpses lay in their final resting places. At the far end, the last of the timelines were sealed off, only one shadowy figure remained over the injured body of Nozdormu, the Timeless One. The figure, wearing a long, hooded, red silken robe, stood with a glowing, runeblade aimed at the mighty dragonspawn.

"The mighty Timeless One, fallen in a vain effort to seal off the timelines. What a waste, that you yourself very well know cannot be done alone, even for someone with such a powerful position as you." said a cool and distant voice.

"Whoever you are, whatever you want, killing me will not allow you to succeed. Destroying the Bronze Dragonflight will not go unpunished. Malygos had to find this lesson the hard way. He was killed so that he could not destroy the world in a power hungry fit of rage." coughed Nozdormu.

"You actually think Malygos was smart enough to start that pitiful excuse he called a war on his own? Who do you think gave that nitwit the idea to rebel? Who do you think gave him his powers to shatter that disgusting thing called a council created by Alexstrasza? I did! I was the one who influenced the Mighty Spell-Weaver into my whim. You have no idea the power I posses. You cannot comprehend what I am capable of doing to this pathetic realm of the living." said the voice in a hushed yet stern tone.

"Who are you?" asked the Timeless One.

With a brief smirk, the figure removed his hood. There stood a human with long Blood Red hair, with fiery orange streaks. His cold, purple/blue eyes started aimlessly into Nozdormu's own. He smiled, and aimed his runeblade at The Timeless One.

"I am Thendalen, Medivh's Son. Now my golden friend, die."

The figure cast the spell before Nozdormu could scream. The Timeless One had died in the very caverns he governed.

"To bad, you could have been a mighty ally. The rest of the dragon flights shall fall. "

Little did Thendalen know, but he was being watched by a bronze dragon named Chromie. She had been hidden from sight, ordered by Nozdormu to do so. The Collapse of the Dragon Flights and the sealing of the timelines, what was this evil being planning? Chromie must warn the Council. Azeroth is not safe anymore.

_**Wyrmrest Temple:**_

Alexstrasza the Life-Binder stood with her back to Krasus, her prime consort. She had fallen in a deep meditation, and has been suffering from nightmarish dreams, and thoughts. Never had she felt like this before.

"Krasus, I do believe that a powerful life was just ended."

"I feel it too. This may be bigger than we had imagined. Have the children been born yet?"

"Yes, both of them have been birthed, and both of them are being marked as we speak. Krasus, I do believe that we are not safe anymore. The days of the Dragon Flights are coming to an end. We no longer hold the influence that we did so long ago. We age as all other life."

"Alexstrasza, how can you say such things? The Dragon Flights shall always possess their power and domain over their aspects. We shall always reign."

"Krasus, you are wrong." said a voice behind them.

The Life-Binder and her consort looked back to see an injured Bronze Drake flying towards them.

"Chromie, What has happened to you?!" asked Krasus in a concerned voice.

"Alexstrasza, it is my entire fault; I should have gone for help. But I didn't, I was a coward!" sobbed Chromie in her gnome form.

"Chromie, what is it? What is wrong?"

"Nozdormu, and the Bronze Dragon Flight, they are all dead." sobbing louder.

Alexstrasza looked at Krasus with shocked eyes. Krasus too looked on in disbelief. Nozdormu, _dead_?

"Demestrasz!" cried Krasus.

After a few moments, the Innkeeper ran into the room.

"Give Chromie a room and some very strong Ale. Then contact the Aspect Council. We have some grave news. Go!"

"Yes Lord Krasus." said Demestrasz as he left.

"Alexstrasza, you are right. The time of the Dragon Flights is ending. First Malygos, Now Nozdormu."

"Krasus, I believe this is only the beginning. I pray that the two we picked will be ready."

"This I know, but how will this end?" asked Krasus.

"I do not know. Krasus, I honestly do not know," replied Alexstrasza.

"But I do know one thing……We maybe next."

_Seventeen Years after true evil awakened…….._

_Thendalen….._

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More to come....


	2. Chapter 1 Ambush

**Chapter One: Ambush**

**13 years later**

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The cold winter air blew down the paths of the shadowy forest, through the mighty landscape of the once mighty tree. The leaves of the great forest rustled in its mighty wake, swept around carelessly as if the Prince of Air, Thunderaan himself partook in this mighty gust. Sweat dripped from his brow in tiny frozen droplets. Grasping the training sword in his small hands, the small warrior swung with all his might towards his opponent. With a quick parry to the coming attack, the opponent swung his training sword and it found its mark. The small warrior fell to the cold ground of the Teldrassil forest. Elendier was beaten.

"Ahhg….. Aoyn, you won again, why are you such a good fighter? I swear you make me look like a damn armless furbolg." said Elendier with much dismay. Yet another loss at the training exercise.

Elendier was a 13 year old Night Elf boy born to the Swiftecho house. A young, aspiring student in the art of war, Elendier was to follow his father, the great Terendis Swiftecho into war one day. Unfortunately, Elendier is not the warrior his father wants him to become. Elendier was much smaller than the other boys his age. He did not have the muscular physique or the endurance to be "top of his class". But, Elendier did have one quality all others envied of. He was almost master marksmen, and the best shooter in Shadowglen, youngest ever to do so.

"Elendier, you will never be a good warrior if you continue to stink at fighting like this. How can we both continue in our training if you do not even know how to spar correctly, your fighting like a gnome!" playfully taunted Aoyn, who did have the distinguished title of "Arms Warrior." Elendier however was stuck in the lowest bracket, the "squires."

"Hey! Take that back, I'm no gnome! I can beat you at a duel any day!" under his breath, "if only I knew how to."

"Your friend there is right. However will you be able to defend yourself in case of an attack? You must train harder, and Aoyn, gnomes are the ones who invented the machines we use now in the war. They may not be the greatest of fighters, but they are much smarter than you and I." said Terendis Swiftecho as he approached the training session.

"Father, I did not know you were there! You must have been quieter than a seasoned rogue!" Elendier said with a swift bow to his father.

"Son, never refer to me as a rogue, those cowards only fight in the shade and never fight honorably. They are cowards that do not know anything of a real fight. Those damn fools think they are so much better than us warriors. It is our blood that is spilled, not theirs!"

"A little jealous are we Terendis? We do get the job done, don't we?" answered Oreinsa Hollow, an agent of SI:7, and trainer of rogue students in Teldrassil. "Don't think that we rogues do not have feelings. Or has your simple brain forgotten who saved your ass that one time in Warsong Gultch. As I remember correctly, you were carrying our flag to them, and I had to bloody break your wrist so that you could drop it."

"I do not need any of your damn banter today Oreinsa, I am here trying to train my son, and I told you never to bring that up. I was out the other day drinking with Gür Stonefoot. That is beside the point, as you can see, my son needs more training in the fine art of HONORBLE combat." retaliated Terendis to a jeer of giggles from Elendier and Aoyn.

"Give the boy some credit; he has been nominated to join the Silverwing Sentinels Marksmen division, the youngest nominee in history! You should be proud, and happy!"

"I have been nominated! I didn't even know I was up for consideration?" replied Elendier in a happy and joyous tone.

"I did know. I was the first to be notified. And I made them reverse their decision. My son will not be a cowardly archer who lets other people fight his battles!" stormed Terendis.

"There you go with your bloody coward speech again! Terendis, can't you see the boy has a gift?! Youngest ever…. In history! He can become captain in six years. Imagine, your son, youngest captain of the Silverwing Sentinels in history!" answered Oreinsa.

"My Decision is final. Elendier, go back home, your mother is waiting with supper."

"But, father, she has a point!..."

"Go now, I mean it!"

Elendier ran home as fast as he could. The breeze had blown his falling tears away. He must not let anyone seeing him crying. But how could he stop? He was nominated for the Sentinels, he was! Not Aoyn, not any other of his friends, but he was. As he neared his home, he ran to a small cove at the bottom of a massive tree. He had discovered this hollow as a small child, and ever since, it was his secret spot. He had gone here many times to think and to be with nature. He heard his calling mother, but he ignored her.

Listening to the winter wind,

"Why can't he see, I am no warrior? I'm barely tough enough to be a squire."

Laying his head down on the soft pile of moss in the cove, Elendier relaxed and continued to listen. Soon, he will not be able to fit in here. He dreamed of his memories there, and the summer days were he and his friends explored Shadowglen, making sure not to enter the cave filled with enormous spiders. The day he saw an injured boar, and instead of taunting it like his friends did so, he went to help it. He dreamed for the rest of the day. He slept until he was disrupted by a nasty odor, and an orange glow. Opening his eyes, Elendier looked out of the cove and saw to his horror, his village was on fire.

"No!" he screamed, as he raced down to his home. He ran past the burning villages, and the screaming villagers. He saw a huge, hairy beast, three times his size with brown fur, and one massive horn on its head carry people off. He saw a blue creature with tusks sticking out from under his lips. Stopping at his home, which had not been set ablaze, he ran inside. He found his mother with her staff out, preparing for any intruder.

"Elendier, get out of here! It is not safe. The Horde has ambushed us," Said Airianna Swiftecho, a healing priestess.

"Mother, I won't leave you," cried out Elendier.

"This is not a discussion, it was an order, now, get out, these monsters are here for you father."

Elendier ran to his room, to get his bow and quiver. Before he could reach his mother, he heard a crash, and a loud screaming sound. It was the last thing a Horde ambusher yelled as Airianna cast a Mind-Flay spell. After a brief interlude of fighting, Airianna was subdued, and tied down.

An Undead Necromancer with a red scar on his face entered the home and confronted Airianna.

"Ahh yes, Airianna Swiftecho I presume?" said the necromancer.

"What is that you want, you bag of bones?" answered Airanna.

At that moment, a Troll with half his face under a cloth slapped Airianna across her face. Airanna began to bleed from her left cheek. But she did not show pain or fear, only quiet determination.

"Now now my dear, no need for rude name calling, I just want to ask you a question. Where is Terendis?" asked the necromancer.

Airianna, with a brief look on her face, turned and saw Elendier in the other room. She gave him a gentle nod, and a loving smile, her last smile to her son. She had always pushed him for greatness. Always listened, and always waited. She was his really mentor. She closed her eyes.

"Be great my son. ELENDIER, RUN!" She screamed.

The necromancer raised his hand, and cast a spell on Airianna. She hit the floor, dead. She still had the soft smile, but her eyes had the life gone out of her. He raised his hand.

"Find the boy, kill him. My master will not tolerate failure." He commanded.

At this point, Elendier was choked with emotions, but he would respect the order his mother told him to do. He ran, bow I hand, and jumped through the window in his family home. Once outside he ran as fast as he could, his heart heavy, his eyes filled with tears, his body quivering, but he ran.

"Elendier, wait, it's me!"

Elendier turned around and readied his bow, he notched and shot an arrow. It hit its mark, with perfect precision. Oreinsa was shot in her shoulder, but did not stop running.

"Damnit, Elendier, why the hell did you shot me?" yelled Oreinsa as she ran with Elendier.

"My mother……. She is……. Dead," Elendier said in a hushed tone.

"Airianna, I am sorry Elendier, she was a truly magnificent priestess. Your father is dead as well. I am sorry."

Elendier stopped and collapsed to his knees. Both of his parents are dead. And his last words with his father were in an argument. He had no will left.

"Elendier, now is not the time. You must be strong, for your mother and fathers sake. Here, your father wanted me to give you this," handing the weak child a small wrapped parcel. "He wanted to give you this when you were both on the battle field one day. You meant so much to hi….."

Oreinsa collapsed with an arrow in the back of her skull that penetrated her neck, spilling a fall of blood.

"NO!!!" screamed Elendier. The last thing he called family had just been killed.

One hundred yards back was the figure of Night Elf boy. Aoyn stood with his bow in hand, trembling at the thought of what he did.

"Why! Aoyn, how could you do that? She was our friend, our mentor!" cried Elendier as fresh tears ran down his cheeks.

"Good shot my boy. Now finish the little one. He stands as no threat to you, or a challenge," exclaimed an Orc hunter to Aoyn.

"I….. Cannot, he is my friend," shamefully replied Aoyn.

The Orc hunter raised his knife and stabbed Aoyn in the base of his neck. The limp body fell with no much of a whisper of sound.

"Coward, what a shame, you would have been a fine warrior one day."

This was the chance Elendier needed. He got up and ran from Shadowglen into the dark forest of Teldrassil, alone and broken. His body battered from the eventful night. He escaped, into the maw of the shadows, and experienced nature in its primal form. Elendier was the sole survivor of the attack.


End file.
